No Shadow (Prodigal Sons of Cane) (14 page)

“You should
wear your hair down more often,” he murmured. She’d worn her hair up to church
the morning before, but it had gradually fallen down throughout the day. This
morning she’d given up and brushed it out loose around her shoulders.

She cheeks
warming, she said, “It’s a pain.”

He reached out
to stroke a long strand with his fingers. “It’s beautiful.”

She blushed
even more deeply. Then, before she knew to expect it, he leaned down toward
her. Very softly brushed her lips with his.

She sucked in a
quick breath as a deep thrill shuddered through her at the kiss.

“Get some
rest,” Andrew said, pulling away immediately although his eyes never left her
face. “You look tired.”

Andrew got to church earlier
than normal the following Sunday. He sat in his pew and looked around, noticing
Helen wasn’t yet in the sanctuary.

Geoffrey, who’d
taken the week off to visit them in Cane, was sitting at home with Melissa this
morning. She was doing a lot better, basically back to her normal self now. But
Andrew was still anxious about leaving her and was relieved his brother was still
around.

The last week
had gone really well, and Andrew was happier than he’d been in a long time. It
was great to spend time with his brother, and Helen had come over nearly every
evening to hang out with them.

Andrew had made
a point of being careful. Although they had an understanding now, he didn’t
feel right saying anything directly about a romantic relationship yet.

He’d slipped up
on Monday when he’d kissed her. He’d been exhausted and drained from
twenty-four hours in the hospital, and he’d been deeply moved by Helen’s quiet,
unfaltering support and the tenderness in her eyes as she’d gazed up at him
next to her door. But he shouldn’t have kissed her. Not when he couldn’t offer
her anything more than this. So he’d made a point of being good all week—and
he’d resisted kissing her again.

As if his
thoughts had conjured her, he saw her come into the sanctuary with her friend Lorraine. 
Andrew had met Lorraine earlier in the week and liked the woman’s wry,
intelligent perspective. Helen saw him and turned to say something to her
friend. Then she walked across the front of the church to join him in the pew.

She wore the
same brown suit and pink blouse she’d worn on the first day he’d seen her.

He remembered
seeing her in the sun that day two months ago—radiant, glowing, illuminated in
the bright light. She glowed all the time, with or without the sun, her vibrant
spirit shining through however she tried to hide it with her quiet demure.
Today, she seemed to glow more than ever, and he couldn’t help hoping that some
of her glow was because of him.

She smiled as
she approached, but as soon as she sat down next to him her expression changed
to a suspicious frown. “Did you fix the lock on my front door?”

Andrew had
forgotten about that, but he managed to keep his response bland. “Excuse me?”

“The lock on my
front door. It always got stuck and I had to jiggle it. But miraculously it’s
working perfectly now.” She peered at his face to catch any signs of guilt or
admission.

He hid a smile.
“Well, that’s a piece of luck, isn’t it?”

“It’s not luck.
You fixed it. Without even telling me.”

“Now why would
I do that?”

“For the same
reason you changed the oil in my car without asking and trimmed the hedges in
my front yard.” She sniffed, although he didn’t really think she was unhappy
about the little things he’d found to do for her. “I can do all that myself,
you know.”

He let his
suppressed smile appear but resisted putting an arm across the pew behind her.
“But why should you?”

Although he was
trying to be careful about making any obvious romantic gestures to her without
offering her a commitment, he’d let himself go at least in this. She’d been
there for him in so many ways over the last two months. He wanted to make sure
he was there for her too—in any way he could.

Her frown
softened as she gazed up at him. “I do appreciate it, you know.”

“I haven’t
admitted to doing a thing.”

She snickered.
“Right. Well, I do appreciate whoever is doing all these little things for me.
I just want to make sure that person knows they’re not necessary.” Her
expression changed, grew suddenly serious. Her voice softened as she continued,
“I want to make sure that person doesn’t think he
needs
to do them for
me to care about him.”

“Whoever it is,”
he said, keeping his voice low, “definitely knows that. He’s not trying to
prove anything. He does them because he wants to, because he cares, and all he
wants is for you to—“  He broke off abruptly, slammed out of the blue, without
warning and without preparation.

Slammed with a
realization, a revelation, a crystal-clear understanding of the one thing that
had eluded him for so long.

“All you want
is for me to what?” Helen asked, staring at him in confusion.

He knew the
answer now. The completion of the thought he’d been trying to explain to Helen.
And the answer to his own deepest need.

All he wants
is for you to accept it, be happy, respond in gratitude to his acts of love.
Say Amen.

The truth hit
him so hard, with so much pure force, that he couldn’t hold his head up. He had
to lean forward, rest his head on his hands.

“Andrew,” Helen
murmured, speaking softly to keep the conversation private even though her
voice was thick with anxiety. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Nothing was
wrong. Something was right. And he finally knew it with his heart as much as
his mind.

If he could do things
in love for Helen without wanting anything more than grateful acceptance, how
much more could God give what He had—give everything—expecting Andrew to do
nothing more in response but say yes?

The worship
service started. He vaguely heard Pastor Jack inviting the congregation to rise
for the call to worship. Andrew couldn’t rise.

He was
conscious of Helen beside him. She hadn’t stood up either, but she hadn’t
questioned him again. He must look like a fool, hunched over in the pew when
the rest of the worshippers had started to sing the first hymn.

But he couldn’t
move. There was something more important happening here. More important than
his pride. Even more important than his feelings for Helen.

He knew. He
knew
.
All he needed to do was say yes.

It must have
been several minutes later because it was in the middle of the congregational
prayer. He felt Helen’s hand on his back, gently rubbing in slow circles. She
was worried about him. He really should give her some sort of explanation.

He took a deep
breath and managed to turn his head.

Her blue eyes
were swimming with tears that hadn’t yet fallen. “Just tell me,” she whispered,
“if it’s good or bad.”

“It’s good,” he
said, his voice thick and low. “Amen.”

The tears fell.
“Amen?”

He knew she
understood. “Amen.”

Her shoulders
started to shake and more tears streamed down her face, but she didn’t bother
to brush them away. Like him, she wasn’t conscious of anyone else in the
sanctuary.

Just him. And
what he’d finally let go.

Andrew wasn’t
able to stand up until the final hymn. He spent the service praying,
processing, pulling himself together.

When he finally
stood up, he knew it wasn’t an accident that they were singing “Great is Thy
Faithfulness.”

Pastor Jack
looked down at them from the pulpit with a smile. Obviously knew what had
happened. Didn’t even look surprised.

Helen started
crying again as they sung, but Andrew wasn’t even tempted. He felt like he had
as a boy. Free. Liberated from the burdens he’d carried for so long. Finally
ready to act.

Amen. Amen.
Amen
.

***

As soon as she and Andrew had
gotten to her father’s house for lunch, Helen went to the bathroom to check out
her face.

She was a
blubbery mess. Her mascara was smudged under her eyes, and all of the powder
and lip gloss she’d put on that morning were gone. Her cheeks were blotchy red,
and her eyes were slightly swollen. She washed her face clean, but it didn’t
help very much. Finally, after combing out her loose hair, she just shrugged
and went to join the men.

It would have
been nice if she could look pretty today, but she couldn’t seem to muster up a
whole lot of concern. She couldn’t even be embarrassed that she’d cried openly
and messily through the whole church service.

She couldn’t
remember ever being so happy. Ever being so sure of God’s presence and power.
And while a little girlish part of herself was brimming with excitement because
this meant that she and Andrew could now officially become a couple, that was not
the largest part of her joy.

Most of it was
for Andrew. For the step he’d finally taken.

When she came
out of the bathroom, she found him at the kitchen table talking to her father. They
ate lunch—a chicken and rice casserole that one of the ladies in the church had
brought for her father—and by the end Andrew had basically explained his
spiritual revelation.

Her father
could discuss theology and God’s work in the world for hours on end without stopping,
but Helen could tell Andrew was getting tired and that all this sharing, for
such a reserved man, had worn on him.

So she changed
the subject as she picked up the dishes from the table. “How long is Geoff
going to stay in town?”

“Just until
tomorrow,” Andrew replied. “His daughter is staying at her grandparents, but he
wants to get back to her as soon as he can.”

“That makes
sense. Does he have a girlfriend?”

“Geoff? No. I
don’t think so. I don’t know how much he’s dated since his wife died.”

“He’s a good-looking
man and a doctor,” she said with a laugh. “I’m sure he’ll have his pick
whenever he decides he wants one.”

Andrew arched
his eyebrows as he got up to pick up the casserole dish. “So you think he’s
good-looking?”

Helen giggled
as his disapproving expression. She was about to say not nearly as good-looking
as Andrew but she changed her mind at the realization that her father was
watching them in amusement. She settled for, “He’s not my type.”

This appeared
to be a good answer. Andrew gave her a grin that made him look devastatingly
handsome.

Still suffering
the shivery aftermath of the grin, Helen put the lunch plates in the kitchen
sink. When she turned it on, she noticed it didn’t spray water everywhere as it
normally did. “Did you finally fix the faucet, Dad?”

“What?” Jack
gave her a blank look. “Is it fixed?”

Helen aimed a
suspicious look at Andrew, whose face remained bland and unrevealing.  For some
reason, his expression made her feel so meltingly fond that she had to hold
herself back from squeezing him in a hug.

She actually
loved that he went around trying to fix things for her. She knew his nature led
him to take care of whoever was in his circle of responsibility, and it gave
her giddy flutters to think that she was now in that circle. That even her
father was in that circle.

She loved that
he noticed things that no one else would bother with—her loose lock, her
father’s faucet—and unobtrusively took care of them, without even being asked.
It spoke so much about the kind of man he was, about the strong, generous heart
he had.

Other than that
one kiss, Andrew hadn’t made any romantic advances on her this week. She
hoped—assumed—he was holding himself back until he’d figured things out.

At heart, he
was as old-fashioned as she was. He was a gentleman, and he didn’t want to lead
her on.

But now that things
had changed, she was hoping for a little more direct acknowledgement of his
feelings. Maybe a date.

When lunch was
over and she finally walked him to the door to say goodbye, she couldn’t help
but hope he would say something. Or at least give her a hug.

He didn’t. He
just looked down on her, with a softness in his eyes she’d seen a lot lately.
“Will you come by this evening?”

She wanted to.
Wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. But she shook her head. “I
can’t. Lorraine and I are hanging out. We already made plans.”

“No problem.
Maybe tomorrow evening.”

“If you’re not
busy, maybe we can have lunch sometime this week.” Helen felt very nervous
about asking him that. Not because she was afraid of being rejected, but
because the invitation made it clear she wanted to spend time alone with him.
She loved Melissa and had a wonderful time with her, but she also wanted to be
with Andrew on his own. “Tuesday is my lunch day with Lorraine, and I have a
meeting on Thursday, but maybe one of the other days.”

Andrew’s mouth
twisted in a frown. “I can’t tomorrow—I have to drive Geoff to the airport. And
on Wednesday I have a conference call.”

Her heart sank
at what felt like a rejection. She was confident of his feelings for her,
however, so she was determined not to read too much into it. She was through hiding
in the shadows, always expecting the man of her dreams to overlook her in favor
of someone else.

Andrew was the
man of her dreams, and he hadn’t overlooked her.

“Maybe on
Friday, then.”

His voice
unusually gentle, Andrew said, “I have a meeting on campus on Friday at one. With
the Dean and Tom Harrison. About the manuscript.”

Despite the
great joy she’d experienced today, a little pang shot through her heart at this
news.

She’d forgotten
all about the manuscript.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lorraine
said with a scowl as she sat across from Helen in the campus cafeteria.

Helen picked at
her salad. “I know. I’m trying not to. But it does feel like he’s stalling—for
no good reason. It’s been almost a week. Why hasn’t he said anything about…about
moving our relationship forward?”

“Who knows? But
obviously he’s interested in doing so. Haven’t you seen him every day this
week?”

“Yeah. But only
with Melissa.”

“How’s she
doing anyway?”  Lorraine’s dark eyes—normally so sharp and clever—softened a
little at the question.

“She’s doing a
lot better. Definitely back to normal.”

“Maybe Andrew
is still worried about her and doesn’t want to leave her alone if he doesn’t
have to.”

Helen took a deep
breath, inhaling the inevitable cafeteria scent of musty old building and fried
food. “Yeah. That’s probably part of it. I know he likes me and I mean a lot to
him. I just wish he wanted to be alone with me.”

“Maybe he’s
worried about being alone with you,” Lorraine said, twitching her eyebrows
mischievously. “Worried about what he might do.”

Helen snorted.
“Right. I don’t think there’s much chance of that. He hasn’t tried to touch me
all week.” As silly as it sounded, she was a little hurt by his standoffishness.

She certainly
didn’t expect very much—but surely a little hand-holding or an arm draped
around her shoulders would be all right. He’d implied that once he got himself
straight with God, he would pursue something romantic with her, but he’d made
more advances
before
he’d figured things out. “Maybe he’s just decided
he’s not interested after all.”

“Don’t even
start,” Lorraine snapped.

“Well, how else
do you explain it? Nothing is holding him back now, but he hasn’t done a thing.
Hasn’t said anything. Hasn’t made a single romantic gesture since the…”

Lorraine’s
eyebrows shot sky-high. “Since the what?”

Helen had been
too shy to tell Lorraine before, but now she admitted, “Since he kissed me a
couple of weeks ago. After the whole hospital thing.”

Clapping her
hands in delight, Lorraine said, “Well, there you have it. I can’t believe you
didn’t tell me before. Obviously, he’s into you. I know a lot of men kiss women
at the drop of a hat, whether they’re serious or not, but I don’t think he
would. Not now.”

“That’s what I
thought,” Helen moaned, rubbing her scalp in frustration. “But why doesn’t he
say anything?”

“Maybe he’s
just nervous.”

“He doesn’t
really seem like the nervous type. Maybe he’s just realized how complicated
it’s going to be. He lives in D.C. I live here.”

Lorraine
shrugged. “So you can be long-distance for a while. You’d be willing to move
eventually, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course. I
love my job. But if I were getting married…” Helen didn’t let herself finish,
not wanting to get her hopes up or assume they had a future when they hadn’t
even gone on their first date.

 “I think
you’re worrying for nothing. The man is obviously crazy about you. Give him a
little more time.”

“Right.” Helen
nodded resolutely and pulling herself out of her doldrums. “That’s what I’m
trying to do. I do know he likes me. He’s showed me in all kinds of ways. I’m
not going to assume the worst. I’m not.”

“That’s the
spirit. No more shadows for you.”

“Exactly.” She
slumped a little again.  “It’s just so hard to be patient. I’m still a little
insecure.”

“Aren’t we
all?” Lorraine said with a laugh. Changing the subject, she added, “So he’s on
campus now, meeting about the manuscript?”

Helen slumped
even more. Despite her vigilant work at getting over her disappointment, she
still felt a heavy ache in her gut at the knowledge. “Yeah. They’re probably
making some sort of gesture at negotiations, but the library doesn’t have a
chance. Andrew is going to get it.”

“I know you’re
disappointed about that, but surely you can trust that he’ll take good care of
it.”

“Yeah. He
finally told me the whole story about why he wants it so much. It’s for his
grandmother. I guess one of the Harrisons courted her when she was a teenager,
and he told her all about Geneva Bale and used the romantic passages in the
novel as part of his courtship. It has sentimental value to her. You know how
committed Andrew is to his family. He’d do anything to make them happy. It’s
sweet that he’s willing to buy it for her.”

“But you still
think it would be better off in the library’s collection.”

“Don’t you?”

“Of course. But
I guess we always have to make sacrifices, don’t we?”

Helen felt a
little lump in her throat as she admitted, “I care more about Andrew than I do
about the manuscript.”

Chuckling
wryly, Lorraine concluded, “If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.”

***

Helen was working in her office
a couple of hours later when Judy tapped on the door. “You busy?”

“No,” she said,
looking up from her computer. “Come on in.” She studied her supervisor’s face
carefully as the older woman seated herself with meticulous grace in a chair
next to the desk.

Helen knew what
was going to happen. She could see it in the sympathetic reserve on Judy’s
face.

She was going
to announce that Andrew Cane had bought the manuscript.

“So the
manuscript is settled, is it?” Helen asked, to make it easier on the other
woman. Despite her perfect propriety, Judy had a very tender heart.

“It is. We
didn’t have a chance.”

“I know. As
soon as the Dean wouldn’t raise our offer, I knew.” Helen closed her eyes,
processing the disappointment and knowing she was mature enough to handle it.

“We came out
pretty well, considering,” Judy added. “I assume you had something to do with
it.”

Helen drew her
brows together. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve spoken
to Andrew about his plans, I assume.”

“No. I’ve felt
a little weird about asking him—I didn’t want to lay a guilt trip on him or
anything. And he’s hasn’t said anything about it. Where is he planning to keep
it? As long as there are some decent security measures in place, it will
probably be okay.”

Judy’s face
broke out into a smile. “So you really don’t know? He’s housing it at the
library. In the Bale collection.”

Helen blinked.
“What?”

“It’s true. I
thought you were the one who talked him into it.”

“I didn’t talk
him into anything,” Helen mumbled, trying to process what she’d just heard.
“He’s keeping it in the library?”

“At least for
the time being. I guess he said it didn’t matter to him where the manuscript
was housed. It was the ownership that was important to his grandmother. She can
come see it here as easy as anywhere else. So, unless he changes his mind
later, the manuscript will be a part of the collection after all.”

Helen was
slammed with waves of shock, confusion, joy and tenderness. She sat frozen in
her desk chair and tried to think of something to say. “Wow.”

Judy chuckled.
“I was worried you’d be upset that we weren’t the ones to actually buy it. But
I guess you’re all right with the way things turned out.”

Helen clasped
her hands together, squeezing her fingers together to channel some of the
shuddering exhilaration. She was nearly shaking with her effort not to squeal
with joy or rush madly out of the office. “May I,” she began unsteadily, “May I
take some personal time this afternoon. I’d like to—”

“Yes,” Judy
said, when Helen couldn’t finish the thought. “Of course. Go see him! Be sure
to thank him for me.”

Helen fumbled
around her office, turning off her lights and computer and getting her purse.
She couldn’t believe that earlier today she’d been a little depressed, a little
worried about the nature of Andrew’s feelings.

But he didn’t
have to say anything. His actions had always made his feelings clear. And this
one—this action—might have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for
her.

She supposed
she looked rather prim and subdued, leaving the library in her old-fashioned,
belted shirtdress, glasses, and granny boots.

She wasn’t prim
and subdued. Inside, she was blazing with joy.

***

Andrew stood in the sun in the
side yard of his house and tried not to yell at the dog who was now named Rat.
Melissa had asked him to take the dog out to do his business, and for some
reason Andrew had agreed.

He hadn’t
expected it to take this long, though.

Rat sniffed
happily around the yard, snuffling at each tree and bush. He made no signs of
doing what he’d come out here to do.

While he
waited, Andrew thought about his meeting on campus earlier in the day. He’d
wanted to drop by Helen’s office afterwards, but he didn’t want it to seem like
he was gloating. He was very concerned about her reaction. He didn’t want to
hurt her for the world, and he hated the idea that she might be disappointed in
the library’s not buying the manuscript. He’d done what he could to reconcile
both of their concerns, but he’d have felt better if they could have talked
about it beforehand.

But Helen had
been avoiding the subject of the manuscript like the plague, and he just hadn’t
been able to make himself raise the topic himself.

Once they got
this one thing settled, he felt like they’d be in pretty good shape. He was
already starting to think through plans for the future. Melissa loved it in
Cane, and she’d made more progress here than she ever had in D.C. More and
more, Andrew was realizing that he didn’t want to leave himself. He’d worked
hard to establish his company and make it the success it was, but it didn’t
make him happy the way a life here might.

He had options.
Any number of options. And he wasn’t tied to a life in D.C. just because it was
what he’d been living for the last fifteen years.

Everything
seemed new, after his realization in church on Sunday. The whole world seemed
remade. Andrew had never believed he’d be this happy or hopeful again.

As long as
Helen was okay about the manuscript and didn’t decide he wasn’t worth the
trouble of putting up with, then the deepest of Andrew’s dreams might come
true.

Rat was still
snuffling around, and Andrew shook his head in frustration. He couldn’t hold a
grudge against the animal though. The dog had done wonders for Melissa.

Plus, if it
weren’t for Rat’s falling into that dugout cellar, Andrew might never have
fallen in love with Helen.

The sound of a
car in the driveway distracted Andrew from his thoughts. He took a few steps
over so he could see who’d pulled up. He blinked in surprise when he saw
Helen’s car. Then saw her getting out of the car, looking pretty and fresh in a
moss green dress.

She’d spotted
him, even before he called out a greeting. He had no idea what she was doing
here. She should still be at work.

His shock
multiplied when she started to run toward him.

She sprinted,
despite her long skirt and high-heeled boots.

Andrew just
stood there in the middle of the yard like an idiot, having no idea what was
happening or why she was running toward him. He couldn’t even make himself move
to walk toward her and cut down the distance she had to run.

A knot of
concern tightened in his belly until he saw her face. It was radiant. Glowing.
Brimming with joy.

It took his
breath away.

He stood frozen
in place and stared as she ran toward him, a matching joy rising up inside him
without any conscious thought. He still had no idea what was happening, but he
couldn’t help but respond to her palpable exhilaration.

She’d come
alive. Every pulse of vibrant passion and feeling he’d known was lurking in the
shadows of her spirit had broken free. She blazed with it. It was the most
beautiful, stunning thing he’d ever seen.

He had the
sense to brace himself when she reached him. She didn’t slow down. Just
launched herself into his arms. The momentum of the impact lifted her off her
feet, and Andrew found himself swinging her around, hugging her close to him, as
close as he could, never intending to let her go.

“Thank you,”
she gasped. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She pressed little kisses
against his cheek and jaw.

Half laughing,
half overcome with emotion, Andrew managed to set her down on her feet,
although he didn’t remove his arms from around her. “You’re welcome. For what,
exactly?”

“For the
manuscript!” She stared up at him—like he was crazy and like he was magnificent
simultaneously. Her hands were fisted in his shirt, clinging to him and not
letting go. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?”

Suddenly
enlightened, Andrew felt a clench relax in his chest. It would be all right
now. Nothing would stand in their way. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it,”
he admitted. “I knew you wanted the library to be the one to buy it.”

“I did, but
what’s important is that it’s taken care of and available for scholarship. And
it means so much that you’ll let us keep it with the collection. That’s what
you were talking about with the Dean that day last month, wasn’t it?

Andrew nodded
his affirmation.

“And I assumed
it was a betrayal.” She shook her head, as if chiding herself, but then her
radiance reemerged. “Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s all right?”

“Of course,
it’s all right. I don’t think my grandmother ever had visions of stroking the
manuscript in the middle of the night. She just wanted it in the family. This
works out perfectly for everyone.” He squeezed her a little, pressing her
against his chest. He could hardly believe he was allowed to do so. “So you’re
not disappointed?”